


Resolution

by imustbeloyletomycapo



Category: Succession (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Biphobia, College, Drug Use, Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:21:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28411590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imustbeloyletomycapo/pseuds/imustbeloyletomycapo
Summary: It had been an odd semester. The same people, the same parties, the same studying, the same anxiety. But when you're no longer joined at the hip with the person you've been joined at the hip with for over a decade, things are going to feel different. It's normal to feel the loss, right? It's normal to feel a big, gaping loss?
Relationships: Stewy Hosseini/Kendall Roy
Kudos: 21





	Resolution

It had been an odd semester. The same people, the same parties, the same studying, the same anxiety. But when you're no longer joined at the hip with the person you've been joined at the hip with for over a decade, things are going to feel different. It's normal to feel the loss, right? It's normal to feel a big, gaping loss? 

Kendall still had two papers left to finish before he could finally, officially, enjoy his winter break. Not that spending time with his father and siblings could be counted as enjoyable in any sense, but at least he would be able to lie on his bed and get high without an undercurrent of oh fuck I have so much shit to do dread in the pit of his stomach. That dread had been there a lot recently. He didn't want to think about that too much. It felt like maybe it was a bit more than dread, and if he thought about that for too long it felt like something inside him might break in two. Weird. Might as well get high! Then there's no awkward emotions to worry about. 

He booted up his computer and started to get to work on his English paper. _Pride and Prejudice_. For fuck's sake. He hadn't actually read the book, but he rented the BBC series from the local video store and enjoyed it, despite everything. The scene with Mr Darcy in the lake was… interesting. His dorm mate Brian was in the same English class and they'd watched it together. Brian had fanned himself like a southern belle and said "oh Mr Darcy, I do declare!!" which had made Kendall laugh so much that he spat out his beer. Brian was cute, in a goofy way, and Kendall liked spending time with him, especially now that - 

Especially now that nothing. Not the time for distractions. 

The little baggie of white powder was burning a hole in his pocket. He told himself that he could have a line after he wrote 500 words. That was nothing - it would take him 20 minutes if he could just fucking make a start. But it would be so much easier to write if he had a taste, even just a tiny, small, tiny, little taste. He'd no willpower. Stewy said that to him once. Stewy. Fuck. So much for no distractions. 

It had been five months since they'd spoken, well spoken any more than the courteous hellos and how are you mans when they'd inevitably run into each other at a party. Stewy with a new girlfriend or boyfriend hanging off his arm, looking bored and like they wanted to get out of there. It didn't hurt to see him with other people, absolutely not, no way. It didn't make Kendall want to die, or drink an entire bottle of vodka, or anything like that. It was totally fine, really, honestly, totally fine and normal. Friends drift apart, that's what happens. It's not like you're allocated one best friend in first grade and you keep them forever. People grow up, people change. It's okay to be sad about it, to be sad that someone you thought was going to be in your life forever isn't going to be anymore. But on the other hand, it's probably not okay that you can't go a day without drugs and alcohol to stop yourself from feeling sad about it. 

Kendall had a lot of things to feel sad about, so at least he didn't have to be so pathetic that he got high purely because he missed his friend. He could get high because his mom was impossible to please, or that his siblings were assholes, or that his dad was… his dad. Sometimes he thought about seeing a therapist, maybe it could help? But then images of headlines saying things like Logan Roy's Pathetic Idiot Son Spotted Leaving Shrink's Office or Guess Which Billionaire Trust Fund Baby Is A Psycho Now (Also They're A Junkie And Not Straight) would run through his head and stamp down on that thought as quickly as it had appeared.

The Not Straight part was the most embarrassing. Imagine being an adult and not knowing who or what you were attracted to, other than the fact it was everyone. If he had been just gay it might have been easier, maybe. But this other thing… I mean come on. When he was younger he thought he was just copying Stewy, honestly sometimes he still thought he was. Twice as many options for people to fill the empty hole at his centre that grabbed at every little morsel of love and care and gobbled it up. Stewy came out to him when they were pre-teens, before Kendall even knew what attraction was. But Stewy was so fucking confident about it, so sure of himself, despite the whispered pleas of you can't say this to anyone else or I'll kill you. Who did he think Kendall was going to tell? His dad? The thought of how that conversation would go made him laugh. Logan Roy was the epitome of hard nosed, old school conservative and the fact that his son's best friend was anything other than a good Catholic boy with rich parents was enough of a problem. Stewy did have the rich parents though, so at least that was something. 

The line came before the 500 words were written, just like he knew it would. And another couple of lines for good measure. It'd be easier to write when he was high anyways. More creative juices flowing. Sober Kendall was grey and monotone and boring. Coked up Kendall was exciting! and fun! and not awkward or insecure! Ahh, there was that warm, tingly feeling, like he could run a marathon in ten minutes, or write a Grammy winning rap record, or walk into Waystar tomorrow, sit down at his dad's desk and announce he was taking over as CEO. The energy built up in his bloodstream and flowed around reaching every last inch of him. Every last inch. Fuck, he missed Stewy at times like this. A warm mouth and warm hands and warm body pressed against him and and and

No. Don't think about it. Please don't think about it. 

It wasn't even the sex he missed. It was the everything else. The ease of spending time with someone who knew every single thing about you. That was there long before anything else happened between them. Playing video games in their childhood bedrooms. Sneaking out from school and seeing who could pocket the most shit from the bodega (It was always Stewy). Swimming in the sea during summers at the Hamptons, eating sausages cooked over the big fire pit. Roman and Shiv throwing sand in their faces and running off screaming. His dad glaring down at them from the top of the dinner table when Stewy kicked him under the table to try to make him laugh. Kendall thought it would last forever. And maybe it could have, if he was a bit braver, or a bit less inhibited. But even then he knew it couldn't. And the worst thing about it was that Stewy had been okay with how things were between them. The sneaking around, the this never happened, the compartmentalising. It was Kendall who said they had to stop and that he needed space. Because space is how you get over people right? His mother said she was moving back to England because she needed space. Connor moved to New Mexico because he needed space. 

And of course Stewy did as he always did and gave Kendall exactly what he wanted. Space. For five months and two weeks and three days and forever and ever and infinity and- 

_________________________________________

Stewy almost never thought about Kendall anymore. Well, if never was every time he thought of something funny or saw someone make an ass of themselves. No more two hour phone calls, wasting time when they were meant to be studying for econ finals or whatever stupid anthropology course that they had to take to meet requirements. Stewy secretly loved the stupid anthropology courses, learning about how cultures approach death and food and language was so fucking interesting. But becoming an anthropologist wasn't going to help him make a billion dollars, so fuck that right? 

A leggy blonde whose name was Ashley or Amy or Marissa was lying in his bed painting her nails. They were going to hit up a party at one of the clubhouses tonight. He really fucking hoped they weren't going to run into Kendall. There's only so many times he could take seeing his hang dog expression without wanting to slit his fucking wrists, and Stewy had beautiful fucking wrists. And an expensive watch. And nice clothes, not a fucking Wu Tang t-shirt and baggy jeans with suspicious looking stains on them. The shit you get away with when your last name is Roy. 

There were snowflakes falling lightly outside his window. It was going to be a cold one. Kendall would probably appear later in just a tshirt over a long sleeve and act like he was too cool to wear a fucking winter coat. He'd catch his death someday. Not that Stewy cared. He'd asked for space, and Stewy was going to give him space. Things had gotten too muddled between them anyways. He didn't want to be in the same position in twenty years' time, feeling jealous and bitter about someone he could never fully have. It was much better to nip this in the bud now. 

The party was heaving, sweaty bodies everywhere holding red cups full of whatever alcohol would get them drunk the quickest. Stewy did a quick scan around the room he was in. No sign of Kendall in here anyways. Probably in a bathroom doing a bump off the back of some sorority girl's hand, like the overgrown child that he is. MarAshMy (he should really try to find out her name) was standing next to him, looking hot as fuck. It was going to be such a great fucking night. 

The sound of raised voices in the hallway made everyone turn their heads slightly. Some idiot fuckhead trying to get in who wasn't invited no doubt. Stewy loved gossip so went to see what was going on. It definitely had nothing to do with the sinking feeling in his stomach that he probably knew the idiot fuckhead at the centre of it. And of course, he was right, but not fully. Kendall was standing at the door of a bathroom in front of a goofy looking guy, a guy from his dorm maybe? Stewy had seen them walking across campus together. The guy looked really fucking angry. 

"Get the fuck away from me, fucking -" 

Stewy didn't even need to hear it, he knew that sentence ended in something decidedly homophobic. Oh shit. This wasn't going to end well. At all. The fact that Kendall actually made a move on this guy meant that he was already super high, and being rejected meant that super high was going to be mixed in with some super self loathing very quickly. And throw in being called a… whatever the choice slur of the week was on top of it? Things were going to go downhill to say the least. 

Kendall's face was paler than usual. When his eyes met Stewy's, Stewy could see the tears brimming. His heart fucking melted. Oh no, my poor, sad baby. Stewy had to check if he was okay, fuck space. He stepped through the distance between them until he was standing next to Kendall, close enough to see his chest rising and falling. Rapidly, of course. Anxiety or coke, or most likely a mix of both. 

He took a deep breath. 

"Hey man, is everything okay?" 

Kendall wouldn't look at him. He wasn't going to force him to, not yet. 

"Stew. Uh, yeah. I'm fine" 

So avoidance was the flavour for this evening. Stewy sighed. 

"You don't look particularly fine" 

"Bro, just, seriously… Just don't. Okay?" 

"Right" 

They stood there in silence for a couple of minutes. Kendall's shoulders were hunched and he looked like he would collapse in on himself at any moment. Stewy wanted to reach out and pull him into a hug, to protect him and keep him safe. But that's not how this worked, not anymore. He swallowed that feeling down into his core. He'd been trying to save Kendall since they were five years old. It was hard to kick the habit. 

"You wanna get out of here?" 

The words leapt out of his mouth before he realised. Kendall turned his head and finally, finally looked at him. There was still the slight glint of tears in his eyes. Uncertainty too. And something else. Longing? Stewy wished that's what it was. Even if it was just his own longing being reflected back at him. Kendall started to say something, but instead he shook his head and went quiet again. Eventually, he spoke. 

"I don't think it's a good idea. You and me. Uh, leaving together" 

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" 

Stewy could feel his jaw clench. 

"Um, Brian… if he said anything to anyone. About what happened. And then people saw me with you. Stew, you have to know about your… reputation" 

"So what you're saying is, is that I'm a slut and the only reason I'd be near you is that we're fucking? Dude, we've been friends since the first fucking grade! Jesus!" 

"I just… don't want any rumours going around" 

Oh so that's fucking it. His precious image. The Waystar successor - well the likely successor, unless Connor magically turned his life around - had to be this, had to do this, had to say this. Everything had to be perfect, and Kendall was going to destroy every last bit of himself to fit into that mould. A mannequin boy, finally worthy of his father's love. Stewy wanted to fly to New York and strangle Logan for what he was doing, put a fucking belt around his neck and pull on it tight. His fists were clenched. Fuck Logan, and fuck Kendall. Spineless motherfucker. 

"I don't know if you can call them rumours when they're the truth, Kenny"

That hit a nerve, just as Stewy wanted. Hurt flickered across Kendall's face. It was his turn to have the clenched fists now. 

"Fuck you, you fucking… fucking asshole!" 

He pushed past Stewy, shouldering into him on the way. 

"Yeah, go running back to Daddy. You stupid cunt. You'll never be good enough for him, and you know that" 

Stewy didn't know if Kendall heard him, but he hoped the words fucking stung.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 coming soon!


End file.
